My angel, Luis
by Skarto
Summary: On serious hold, sorry.
1. Revolution

**First of all, let me start off with a warning. This story contains rape and psychological terror, possibly torture (if I can get round to it), and Leon X Luis slash. Not very nice, but don't complain. I've just spent my whole Saturday writing this.**

**Big thanks to Snow Puff, whose stories I thoroughly recommend reading. **

**Chapters will probably only be this long if I write at weekends, or do little bits on weekdays.**

The grass was cool beneath his feet, and the dry soil made a soft padding sound as he walked across it. The hill obscured the view beyond it; all that could be seen was the bright cloudless sky. The man increased his pace, and soon was rewarded with the sight of a wide shoreline, and an immense, sparkling azure ocean. The hill stopped, dropping down to the beach below. Luis Sera unfolded his large white wings, gazing down for a moment at a lone figure walking on the hot sand.

The person seemed to be a young male dressed in some kind of law enforcement uniform, and Luis could make out the letters 'R.P.D' stamped on the front. The man turned towards the sea, hands on his hips, and Luis launched himself off the cliff, ecstasy filling him as his wings stretched out and caught a breeze.

He floated downwards lazily, the warm air blowing back his dark hair, and landed behind the stranger. The man didn't turn around or acknowledge Luis, but sighed and dropped his hands back down dejectedly.

"What happened to you?" Luis murmured. He reached out, and gently grasped the man's upper arm. He turned, sandy hair blowing across his face. He gave Luis a brave smile, but the angel could see that behind blue eyes lay a mind that had seen too much, but would see a lot worse before this poor man was allowed to rest.

Luis drew his left wing in close, and pulled out a long, pure flight feather. He held it out to the man who hesitantly ran a finger up it, feeling the softness of the untainted quill. His hand brushed against Luis's as he took the feather, an almost electrical force passing between them. The man looked down at the feather and smiled again. As he began to fade into a pale light, he gazed into Luis's eyes, and mouthed a single word.

"_Leon." _

The man faded completely, and was nothing more than small bubbles of light, barely visible in the bright sunshine. Luis ran a hand through his hair, testing his new charge's name.

Leon. With the revelation, Luis knew exactly where he was going next. Spain.

Leon woke up, amazed to find he wasn't screaming or in a cold sweat. There had been no dreams of foul corpses shuffling after him, or unholy terrors leaping out from behind every doorway. No blood dripping off suspended carcasses, and more importantly, no death.

Instead, there had been a briny scent in the air, and a man whose face he couldn't quite remember. He walked to the bathroom out of habit, but far from the noise of his vomit hitting the sink basin, the phone began to ring, jerking him out of his half-asleep stage. He moaned with annoyance, and spitefully let the voice message pick up the call. From his hallway, he could hear his own voice telling the person on the other end that he wasn't in at the moment. There was a beep, and a very official sounding man started to talk.

"Leon Kennedy. As soon as you get this, you'd better get your ass down to headquarters quickly. It doesn't take a genius to work out something's happened. This is no shitty drill; get down here now!"

Leon miserably dunked his head into the cold water of his sink. He really didn't want to go anywhere today, save the gym. In a week's time, he would be bodyguard to the president and his family, and he had to get back in shape. Even though he was well muscled, he found that a couple of hours on the treadmill with his beloved MP3 helped to chase away memories of Racoon City.

Forgetting breakfast like he usually did, Leon dressed into his normal disarming civilian outfit. No sense in getting mobbed on his way to work. He paused for a moment, considering the pure white feather lying on his pillow. Shrugging, he walked out of his apartment. He had bigger things to worry about, by the sound of the voice message.

Luis examined the Plaga embryo under the microscope, noting how the steroids and other such drugs that had been injected into it were affecting growth and stability. All the Ganado assisting him had gone for the night, and as soon as he finished here, Luis was looking forward to dropping onto his bed as well. The only lights on were the ones in his lab, the outside seen through viewing glass was dark and dingy.

Confident that no-one was around, Luis stretched out his wings for a moment, yawning. Every time he waved a hand in front of his face, it became blurred. He needed to get some sleep. Tucking his wings back in, he picked up his notebook, taking too long to realise that someone was behind him.

His face was smashed onto the metal worktop, a hand curled through his hair, painfully pulling at it, and held him in position. He was crushed against the bench by the force of another's body, the action causing test tubes and pipettes to crash on the floor, shattering.

"Hello, little angel." A cold mocking voice, heaving with anger. Luis stiffened, and felt the blood drain from his face.

_Saddler._

Luis whined quietly, bloody tears welling in his eyes from the pain. A hand slipped around his front and unbuckled his belt. Luis squeezed his eyes shut, the tears now running swiftly down his cheeks. He didn't want to feel what was going to happen next, didn't want to feel this monster corrupt him. His pants were slid down, and after a second, he felt something push into him.

_A spirit glided past my face, and the hair on my body stood on end._

Luis screamed at the burning pain, and then again as it was repeated.

_May the Lord judge between you and me._

Saddler was panting behind him, enjoying the pain and humiliation he was causing the angel. The tears ran thick and fast, a constant guttural moan emitting from Luis.

_And may the Lord avenge the wrongs you have done to me_

Luis was sobbing in terror. His body was shaking from Saddler's exaggerated thrusts, and he focused his eyes on a Plaga embryo suspended in purple liquid, trying to keep his mind and his heart from breaking.

_But my hand will not touch you._

The hand in his hair tightened, and Saddler gave a loud moan, his hips coming up one last time.

_Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse._

Saddler pulled out of the angel, letting him slid to the floor. Luis huddled in front of the bench, pressing his back to it, his face wet with tears. Saddler was sneering down at him, eyes cold with malevolence. Luis pushed his face into his knees, not bearing to see the face of Satan.

As Saddler stalked out of the room, Luis lifted his head up.

"I forgive you," he whispered. Saddler froze in the middle of the room, and snarled in disgust. The door whooshed open, and the evil cult leader strode out, locking the angel in.

The urge to break down the walls and escape was overwhelming, but Luis knew that to protect this Leon, he had to stay put. He lay on the floor, to tired to find a proper place to sleep, and wrapped his wings around him for comfort. This did little to soothe him, and he began to weep into his soft downy feathers, eventually crying himself into blissful sleep.

Leon arrived at headquarters a little after ten, regretting not grabbing a bite to eat. He was taking the elevator to the fifth floor, Governmental Issues and Incidences. There were a couple of other people in the lift with him, not that he was paying any attention. Very smart looking business people, stereotypically carrying briefcases and wearing brand new suits.

He leaned his head back onto the cool metal of the wall, nodding in time to his MP3 music, taking pleasure in driving the stuffy people mad. Then the music changed.

Instead of 'The Killers' was the sound of glass breaking, and whimpering. Leon frowned and held up the tiny screen to the light, which was still displaying 'Mr. Brightside' as the song being played. On the audio track was now the sound of a man, his voice harsh and angry.

"_Hello, little angel."_

Leon shook his head, the day wasn't half done, and already weird shit was happening to him. He turned his MP3 off, (much to the relief of the other people in the elevator) and walked through the opening doors and onto the jolly floor of Issues and Incidences. He hadn't gone two steps before he was confronted by a burley man in a black suit, wearing dark glasses.

"Mr. Kennedy?" he inquired. Leon nodded. "Right this way, please."

Leon was led past more smart-but-hassled looking people, down a hallway and into a room labeled 'No access to unauthorized personnel'.

Inside was a massive circular table, a dozen chairs placed around it. Only one of these chairs was occupied.

"Leon, please sit down. Can we get you a drink?" The speaker was a pale man with dark hair and overworked eyes, but he smiled as Leon plonked himself in the opposite seat.

"Coffee please. I haven't had anything all morning." The man smiled sympathetically, and waved his hand at the person who had come in with Leon.

"My name is Henry Davison; I am in charge of this investigation."

Leon twitched at the word 'investigation'.

"Um…what investigation, Mr. Davison?"

"You must not have seen the news." When Leon shook his head, Davison gestured to the screen built into the wall. He pressed a few buttons on a remote, and the news flickered on. A blonde haired woman was talking.

"-ity is to be investigated by trained forces. More on that later, but now back to our main headline. The president's daughter, Ashley Graham, has been kidnapped by an unknown terrorist group on her way back from college. It is believed she will be held to ransom, although the president has stated time and time again that he does not negotiate with terrorists. Will he change this to save his daughter? We have been told that a specially instructed group of people are being prepped as we speak. In other news, the Umb-"

Davison switched off the set, and pushed a stack of papers towards Leon.

"We have received a tip-off that she may be somewhere in Europe, Spain to be precise. Your job is to ask around for information."

Leon opened the file to a picture of the girl, dressed in an orange sweater, with blonde hair and brown eyes. The perfect picture of a damsel in distress.

"So, who are the people coming with me?"

Davison raised his eyebrows, fingers steepled.

Luis woke in pain, lying in a puddle of his own blood. He was incredibly sore, and had to grasp the edge of the worktop before he could stand up. He couldn't harm Saddler, but he could find a way to bring about his downfall.

_I don't hate you; I just want to know how you feel. How do you sleep at night? It's not okay, but I'll be fine._

Luis shuddered as he saw a section of the bench was stained with blood. His blood. His eyes passed over his files, his reports, and his…laptop. As quickly as he could, Luis turned on the computer, and dragged it into a corner of the room. Calling up an e-mail program, he looked over his lists of contacts, wondering who to send a warning to. Eventually he decided on a man called Carlos who had contacts in the American government.

_Carlos,_

_The president's daughter is trapped in a village called Pueblo near the East coast of Spain. Be caref_

Luis heard footsteps coming towards him, down the hall. He quickly hit the 'send' button, and watched as the e-mail processed the information.

The door was unlocked, and Saddler strolled into the room. Luis immediately dropped the laptop, and scuttled to another corner, away from Saddler. The cult leader bent down to read the screen of the computer, and Luis watched in horror. A little 'ping' sounded from the inbuilt speaker, and a smug little voice confirmed the message was sent.

Saddler slowly swivelled his head towards Luis, his face twisted in spite and hatred. He stood up, and Luis frantically tried to shield himself with his hands. Saddler pulled him to his feet, and Luis gave a whimper of pain as he was pressed against the bench again.

The second time was worse than the first, as Saddler was very angry. He used his nails to gouge deep scratches in Luis's back and neck, all the while tormenting him by telling him exactly what he was going to do next.

Sometime in the middle of this second humiliation, Luis went numb, physically and mentally. He could no longer feel Saddler thrusting and touching him, and suddenly didn't care. His tears had run out long ago, and now all he could do was lie limply on the counter as Saddler rocked back and forth.

Eventually it was all over, and Saddler bent over Luis, licking his earlobe.

"Do you forgive me now, angel?"

Luis shivered, his eyes wide. He nodded hesitantly, and felt himself being slammed onto the ground.

"Take him to Mendez. We'll see just how much he can take before he starts cursing us. And then-" Saddler leaned over Luis, whispering. "You'll go to hell, little angel."

Two sets of strong arms lifted him up, and as he was carried out of the room, Saddler chuckled.

**Rape is not pretty. Poor Luis.**


	2. The locals are very friendly

**Big thanks to Sara A. Wesker, photoman63, A Familiar Voice, AI, and Snow Puff for reviewing.**

**If you notice anything different from the proper plotline i.e. different numbers of Ganado, different monologue, it's supposed to be there. Just trying to make it a bit more interesting from the actual boring thing you see every time you play the game…oh, I have also omitted Hunnigan. Someone else will be helping out Leon and Ashley instead, so just enjoy the story! **

Two days and three hours later saw Leon travelling down a dirt track through some sort of forest in Spain. His two assistants were from the local Spanish police force, one who smoked like a chimney, and the other who looked like the word 'workout' was beyond him.

Leon was reminiscing back six years, to the incident at Racoon City. He knew he should stop torturing himself, but at least whatever would happen at this village couldn't be as bad as what had happened at Racoon. Go in, ask a few questions about Ashley, and hopefully find her alive and well. That was the plan.

"Why am I always the one who gets picked for the stupid missions anyway?"

The cops up front were murmuring to each other, as though Leon wasn't sitting right behind them.

"Yo cowboy, come on and tell us who we're working with. You are a long way from your fancy gadgets now."

Leon snapped out of his musing, slightly offended.

"Well, I guess that's your version of saying 'hey, how're you doing back there?'. Anyway, I know your chief told you both what this is about. I have to search for the President's missing daughter."

The two cops exchanged glances, not bothering to hide their smirks. The one in the passenger seat twisted round to look at him.

"Yeah, all by yourself? What are you now? Mr. Hero?" He chuckled, not noticing the glare from Leon. The remark had cut slightly into him. It wasn't his fault he had always ended up alone against enemies.

"I'm sure you didn't volunteer just so you could drive me to this village and go off for lunch together." Leon hid a grin, determined to get his own back. "Then again…maybe you did."

The cop forced a scoff, and the driver gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

"You crazy _Americano_. The chief hand-picked us himself," a note of pride entered the cop's voice. One that Leon was resolute to cut short.

"Why? Was everyone else at lunch?"

The car stopped abruptly, and Leon was suddenly worried that he was going to be thrown out and left to walk to the village. The cop in the passenger seat got out, and walked to the side of the verge. The driver turned and offered Leon a cigarette. Not the wanting-to-kill-himself type, he took it anyway as a bartering object. He used a brief moment to look at the surrounding woodland, a dense mist obscuring the depths of the forest, and the sky was an equally grey and foggy colour.

The second cop got back into the car with a hurried "sorry it took so long," and they were once more moving towards the village.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Luis had spent the best part of three days in a wardrobe at one of the empty houses, and was desperately worried. His charge hadn't turned up, and he could only hope that he wasn't captured or dead courtesy of the Ganado. The duct tape around his mouth was itching, and the only relief he could get was by rubbing his face against the wood. His hands were bound behind him with a piece of rope, and the cramped space meant that his wings could not be extended to give him comfort. The dark was only penetrated by a single beam of light from the keyhole, which he could look out of sometimes to see a pair of Ganado pacing and jabbering in Spanish. Fortunately, the loose-lipped Ganado often spoke of things that Luis could use to his advantage. So far, he had learned that the President's daughter was trapped in the church, and she was injected with a Plaga.

While he slept in the wardrobe, Luis always dreamt of the most horrific of the experiments he had done. The Regenerators and Iron Maidens. He usually woke up in a cold sweat, screaming behind the tape over his mouth, swearing he could hear the wet wheezing and gasping of the abominations getting closer. He remembered the terrifying sight of the body bags that contained formally dead experiments lurching off dissecting tables and shuffling around on the floor. When these bags were eventually removed, Luis suspected that even Saddler had wished they weren't. The present Regenerators were, unbelievable as it was, an improvement on the first ones.

Featureless faces with mouths that were twisted into permanent grins with teeth growing over the lips, the eyes either tiny or non-existent. Many unfortunate Ganado met their end with these creatures, their throats ripped out, limbs severed, skulls crushed between teeth.

Luis shivered, wishing that he had something to take his mind off the memories. Sadly, Mendez had forgotten to give him a rubix cube before throwing him in the wardrobe. So until Leon came, it was just him and his memories.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Leon was relieved to see a lone house through some trees after crossing a rickety bridge. After much jibes and taunts by the cops, he wanted to be among normal, sane people.

"Follow the path amigo, and you'll find the village."

"Aren't you supposed to come with me?"

"Nah, this car's worth more than my job. I don't want it to get clamped."

"Clamped. Right…"

Leon happily got out of the car, eager to have fresh air and a chance to stretch his legs. He walked down a worn path towards the house, startling several crows. When he reached the house, he raised a hand to knock, and then lowered it, pushing the door open with a shrug.

The first thing he noticed was the filth covering the walls and floor. It looked as if the house hadn't been cleaned in years. Second thing, was the rasping, hacking cough coming from the other room, which sounded as if the owner had smoked since they were twelve years old.

Leon drew his handgun and edged around the corner stealthily. A small room greeted him, equally as dirt-encrusted as the first one. Crouching near a fire with his back to Leon, was a middle-aged man wearing clothes that rivalled the room as 'most filthy object'.

"Uh, excuse me. Sir?"

Leon lowered the gun to appear as non-threatening as he could. The man turned around, his gaze riveted on Leon in an unnerving fashion. Unperturbed, Leon continued his questioning.

"I was wondering if you recognize the girl in this photograph. Have you seen her?" He held out the picture of Ashley in her orange sleeveless sweater and green skirt.

The man took a quick glance downwards, and then looked back up at Leon, angrily.

"Qué carajo haces aquí? Lárgate, cabrón!"

Leon recognized the word 'cabrón', and it wasn't pleasant. He started to put the picture back in his pocket, feeling miffed.

"Well, I'm very sorry to have bothered you."

The next few seconds were an adrenaline filled blur as Leon's keen senses picked up the unmistakable sound of metal flying through the air. He hit the floor and rolled to the side as the villager backed off, still brandishing the sickle that would be embedded into Leon's skull if he had been a split-second too slow.

Leon's trigger finger was twitching as the handgun came up, and he was badly shaking with the surge of adrenaline running through his veins. God, you'd think he would be used to that by now…

"Sir, drop the weapon and freeze!" The man came closer, his orange eyes glinting with murderous intent.

_Orange eyes?_

But Leon had no time to worry about this, as the man was getting nearer, his sickle raised for another swipe. With his options running out, Leon listened to his finger that was lightly resting against the trigger, and fired.

The man pressed a hand to his face, and wailed, flailing around in agony. Leon lowered his gun for a moment, confused at the lack of death, and then quickly raised it again as the man rushed him, roaring in rage. He dodged then pivoted as the man rushed past him. Another shot to the back of the neck, and the man finally slumped to the ground.

After a bit of poking with his toe, Leon had concluded that this was definitely _not _a zombie. This was good, as he'd had enough of that shitty shuffling-around-and-eating-brains crap back in Racoon city.

A few seconds later, there was a revving sound outside and a vehicle streaked past the house in the direction of the bridge. Leon rushed to the window and peered out of a gap in the shutter.

There was a screech of tyres followed by panicked shouts, gunshots, and finally, an almighty crash.

"Oh…shit…"

Leon rushed for the door, but found that it was blocked from the outside. Laboured breathing could be heard, and no matter how much he shoved, Leon could not open it.

_They must be pressing against it from the other side…_

A pair of wild orange eyes stared at him from the window, the owner beating hard on the glass and yelling through a bloodied mouth.

"¡Ahí está!"

Leon abandoned the door and ran for the stairs at the back of the house. At the top was a table with handgun ammo, and a large window. With no other choice, Leon snatched at the ammo as he sailed through the window and hit the ground rolling.

There were five in total, more than he'd anticipated, and he side-stepped one to try to reach the bridge. However, as he sprinted down the path, he could clearly see that it had been destroyed; the ropes holding it up had either snapped or been cut and there was smoke rising in the ravine to the left of him. With a fleeting look behind him to ensure that the crazy people behind him were keeping their distance, Leon peered over the edge.

The cop car lay upside-down, half submerged in the water. Next to it was a sort of pick-up truck that had rammed the other vehicle off the road. There was no sign of either officer or the people who drove the truck.

The shuffling of feet reminded him of the individuals behind him. He turned to see them flaunting various tools associated with farming.

They moved closer, obviously hoping to push him off the edge into the river or impale him on one of their many instruments. Leon backed away, a few metres from the narrow valley. One metre. Mere feet away from a bloody end or watery grave.

There was no fucking way he was going to back down any more, and Leon's trusty handgun made its mark on several of the opponents before it clicked emptily. Reloading far too slowly, the only man without a weapon decided to rush him. Eyes glinting with madness, he opened his mouth in a snarl, and with his arms outstretched, lurched forward.

Before he knew what he was doing, Leon had whipped out his knife, and inserted it between the man's eyes. With a final kick that sent the man flying backwards into his companions, Leon finished reloading his handgun, and fired directly at the heads of the assailants. Three stayed where they had fallen, which left one more to deal with. He faced Leon angrily, and raised the pitchfork he was holding in challenge. Leon accepted with a nod, and aimed at the man's lower leg. Once he had fallen to his knees, Leon ran up and planted a foot straight into his chest. Wasting no more time, he fired two shots into the back of the man's head, ending him.

Leon straightened up and walked over to the man he had killed with a knife. Pulling the blade from its resting place, he noticed that the body seemed to be decaying at an alarming rate. As he wiped blood off his knife, the body collapsed into dust, quickly followed by the other three, and finally the one he had just killed.

Reloading his gun again, Leon looked up the path towards the way he still had to go. Would he find more hostile people at the village? Well, sure of the fact that he couldn't go back, Leon Scott Kennedy began his walk to the village, praying that this wouldn't take longer than it should…


	3. The village

With the events that led up to Leon's discovery of the village, he concluded that this would not be a short stay.

Somewhere between fighting off more of the village people and getting the same leg caught in three bear traps, he realised that he would be hard-pressed to finish this mission by himself. He hoped that the other cops were still alive, at the worse kicked around, but not dead.

_Lazy…They should have come with me…_

Stopping in front of a large gate, he paused with one hand on the wood. Behind this door could be any number of evil people with pitchforks and axes. He didn't have much handgun ammo left, the last two people forcing him to use it whilst they dodged his headshots. Could this next area hold the last few moments of his life?

Cautiously, he pushed the gate open and peered around it suspiciously. No sharp pointy objects met with his head, so he continued on down a short path.

Seeing some people milling about in the centre of the village around a large bonfire, he hid behind a convenient tree and whipped out his trusty scoped binoculars.

It seemed fairly normal if you took into the consideration of the place being about a hundred years behind the rest of the world. The houses were fairly small and made of wood, just like the others he had seen here. Chickens wandered about, and were being fed by a woman wearing a dirty blue and white dress, and who had a large butcher's knife tucked under a belt round her middle.

He gazed to the large fire burning in the heart of the village, and stumbled backwards in shock. Skewered on a large spike that seemed to have been constructed for that reason, was one of the cops that had driven him there. The more Leon zoomed in, the more graphically he could see the expression of the cop, his face twisted in a scream.

Leon hoped to God that he'd been killed before that fire was lit.

More of the villages were pottering around doing their daily tasks. It was unnerving how the scene would look so normal if you took out the roasting police officer.

The villagers seemed pretty preoccupied, so Leon decided to slip by on the small back-path that led around the first house. No joy. As soon as he'd rushed around the corner, a young woman with a bucket stopped feeding the chickens, and turned to stare at him. She didn't seem to be alerting the others, so taking a chance; he put a finger to his lips and 'shushed' her.

The bucket hit the ground with a clang, grain spilling over the floor as the woman raised an arm to point at him.

"¡Cógelo!" (Get him!)

"Oh…_crap_..."

In a matter of seconds, the whole mood had changed from stealthily creeping around, to running and shooting. The aforementioned ammo shortage was becoming a real problem, and Leon was left with three bullets, and four times as many villagers.

Winding up in the middle of a crowd which was rapidly closing in on him wielding weaponry, Leon used one of his precious bullets to shoot the closest villager in the head. While he was thrashing around, Leon kicked him back, making the other villagers stagger. Taking this opportunity, Leon pushed past, not able to avoid a desperate lucky strike with a pitchfork that left a gash in his upper arm.

Skidding to a halt in front of the smouldering cop, Leon frantically twisted his head round, trying to find a place to hide. He eventually threw himself into a two-story house, hoping that there was no-one inside.

"God damn it!"

More of the villagers were gathering outside, a few at the window to his right were banging on the glass. He pushed an old dresser against the door, and peered out of a small hole in the wall. The village people seemed to be talking in Spanish, possibly plotting something.

A revving sound started up, and Leon looked around to see a chainsaw being brandished by a man with a bloodied sack over his head.

"Great, a chainsaw. At least they're modern enough to have power tools…"

A smashing sound upstairs brought Leon's attention to the unguarded stairs.

"They're…breaking the windows…shit!"

Ignoring the villagers sneering at him from the window, Leon grabbed a box of handgun ammo from the table and reloaded as he rushed up the stairs.

Doing a double take, he had to blink several times to convince himself that the shotgun on the wall was _not_ a mirage. He lifted it off the hooks attached to the wall, and quickly examined it, pleased to find that it was still fully functional. He was further delighted to discover that it was already loaded with six shots.

On a grimy bed in the corner, he found another ten rounds and with his back to a picture of an old ugly man, (AN: Yes, it killed me to write that.) awaited the inevitable confrontation.

The first person up the ladder was a young man, probably younger than Leon himself. Leon made the mistake of hesitating, trying to reach the young person trapped behind those orange eyes.

A sickle whooshed through the air, and hit Leon in the stomach, causing him to double up with pain. Grateful for his first-aid spray, Leon looked up to see that a window opposite him had smashed, and that a woman and another older man had entered the room. Itching to see his new toy in action, Leon pulled the trigger…

…and was treated with a dull click.

"Argh! Safety!"

Fumbling for the catch on the side of the gun, Leon stared down the barrel to see the younger man almost on top of him. He rammed the gun forward, smashing the metal into the man's head and breaking the skull above his eye. He went down hard, and Leon flicked the catch to turn the safety off.

Aiming at head height, Leon fired, lurching slightly from the kick. The man fell down, but the woman's head was completely blown off, and Leon was showered with blood raining from her neck. Her body still walked towards him menacingly, and he had to push it away before it wandered into him.

From the decaying bodies, Leon managed to pilfer some money, useful if he ever got back to civilization, and some kind of green herb which he slipped into his pocket. The man on the ground hauled himself to his feet, muttering. Leon dispassionately put another couple of shots into him, and he fell to the floor.

Someone else was coming up the ladder, someone heavier. A burlap sack appeared, two eyeholes cut into it, followed by the rest of the chainsaw wielding maniac. The chainsaw sliced through the air, but Leon ignored the threat and fired as the man's feet hit the floor. The big man stumbled, but did not fall. He advanced on Leon, even as Leon aimed at his head. Another shot saw him stagger, hand pressed to his strange headgear where a bloodstain was blossoming, adding to the others.

It was too late when Leon realised he had to reload, Leather face was coming closer. It was his first time reloading, and Leon was slow, too slow. He could almost see his life flash before him, and hear the end to a strange little song that had been playing inside his head.

_I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead…_

He loaded the last shot, hastily pushing the cartridge into the chamber, even though he was a second away from death. He heard the revving of the chainsaw, but to his surprise, the madman ducked, and dodged to the side suspiciously. Leon took this opportunity to finish reloading, and then pumped the forestock to knock the shots into the chamber.

A blast to the head finally knocked the abomination over, and Leon used the hand grenade to great effect; the chainsaw man breathed his last, as did several villagers climbing the ladder and coming through the window.

Leon pocketed more pesetas and shotgun ammo, before running to the window to see another villager climbing the ladder with a stupid grin on his face. Leon aimed his shotgun downwards, and blew off his head; chunks of bone and brain flying everywhere. The body fell sideways taking the ladder with it. Leon leapt out of the window, rolling on the ground to break his fall.

More villagers rushed from what seemed like every entrance, and closed in on Leon, trapping him in the centre of the village. Not wanting to go down without a fight, he fired his gun a few more times, though only one villager fell dead at his feet. For the second time in three minutes, Leon felt sure that this was the end.

A ringing noise in the distance made every head turn in that direction. The villagers lowered their weapons, and muttered in awe. They had seemed to forget that Leon was there; and walked straight past him, a few even bumping into him as they headed towards a door bearing a strange emblem.

A man with a beard that looked remarkably similar to the first villager he had shot seemed to catch Leon's eye as he ambled past, mumbling just two words.

"_Lord Saddler._"

When the last villager had walked through the doorway, Leon could swear that he saw someone looking straight at him through odd, mismatched eyes. It swung shut, and Leon spun around, taking in every detail of the village like he had been trained to.

Pausing upon the mystery of the preoccupied villagers, Leon ran to the strange door and tried to tug it open. It seemed to have been locked from the inside, which meant that his lock-picking skills were of little use. Giving up, he let his hands drop by his sides, and kicked out at an innocent bystanding rock.

He continued past a tower, and up another path that led to one more gate. He pushed it open, and saw a small field with cows, and a man ferrying water from one trough to another.

_Finally, things look a little normal around here…_

Yet, he was sadly mistaken again, when a shout rose from a man with a pitchfork.

_Fuck._

He was sure that they would all come rushing over now, but he only saw the one man approaching him; all the rest seemed to immersed in their duties. The balding man walked rather malevolently over to Leon, who was standing still with his gun trained on the man's head. He let the man come closer, as he knew that the shotgun was only deadly at close range. When the man brought his pitchfork back to skewer Leon, Leon fired.

The man fell down; blood oozing from his neck. Leon sensed this small victory and smiled. Perhaps he could now try and get through this place without being spotted…

A sharp tool was hacked into Leon's side, and he turned to see a sadistic grin on the face of a farmer, before falling to the ground.

The man gloated down on his prey, and Leon fixed him with a glare, that rapidly turned into a look of pain. He tried to cover the wound up as best he could with his hands, even though he could feel hot liquid run through his fingers.

Not able to do much other than writhe in pain, Leon looked up helplessly at the man above him, who picked him up by the back of his neck with immense strength. He was being dragged across the ground, leaving bloody trails behind him, to some kind of wooden tree-stump. Leon gasped with horror as he saw red stains splattered across the brown surface, and marks in the wood where something had been hacked in. An axe was implanted in the middle.

The man prised the axe from the wood, and laid Leon's head over the stump, baring his neck. Leon struggled, as feeble as the day he was born.

_It all seemed to happen in slow motion, the axe was coming down, but to Leon, it seemed to take a lifetime. His hands brushed the ground, trying to command his body to roll off the stump, to do anything. This was it, he knew it was. This was finally…_

**The End! (P.S. of this chapter! Lol!) It's a TBC, and will Leon survive? Well, I bloody hope he does, or I'll have nothing left to write about. Luis in next chapter…I promise. I will never die. (XD)**

**Shotgun techno-whatever, I don't know how to fire a gun…well, a shotgun anyway…so I really don't know if pumping the forestock knocks the bullets in the chamber. I sure hope so. Guns, my way :D.**

**The "Argh! Safety!" bit was a little borrowed from Shaun of the Dead, which is brilliant, and I don't own it. The bit with Dr. Salvador ducking actually happened to me, I thought I was a goner cuz I was reloading…and then he ducked, and it was the happiest moment of my life.**

**Well, hope you enjoyed, I know it's kinda boring going through all the fight scenes and what-have-you, but I didn't want to cut much out. Oh yeah, and thanks for reading!**


	4. The man in the wardrobe

**Sorry for he delay. Bad case of writer's block, school and laziness. Many many thanks to those that reviewed, you are very appreciated. Well. Those that were nice in their reviews.**

**De Sade IV, yes, the village is called village. You don't like it, tell Capcom. And yes, very nice constructive criticism there. You sure helped me improve with all your wonderful hints on what I could do better! Don't like, don't read.**

**Anyway, the long overdue next chapter.**

_It all seemed to happen in slow motion, the axe was coming down, but to Leon, it seemed to take a lifetime. His hands brushed the ground, trying to command his body to roll off the stump, to do anything. This was it, he knew it was. This was finally…_

His hand closed around something at last. Something smooth and round. A second before the axe struck, Leon flung the chicken egg into the face of the murderous farmer.

The farmer froze comically, blinking in astonishment as slimy yolk slid down his face. He dropped the axe, and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, presumably trying to remove bits of eggshell lodged in there.

Leon reached out and grabbed the axe, just as the farmer realized his mistake. But before he could sink it into the leg in front of him, the man retreated a few steps, _just_ out of range. Reaching behind him, he pulled out another axe, blade the rusted red colour of dried blood with a few smears of fresh.

"Awww, give me a fucking break!"

The man charged, axe raised high. Leon met the swing with his own weapon, and for a moment, the two were locked in combat; both striving to overpower the other. A swift kick to the groin broke the farmer's concentration, and as he bent double in pain, Leon was able to quickly smash the axe into the side of his head. Blood streamed down the man's face, and there were a few moments where his eyes went wide, and he flailed around helplessly, trying to find something to steady himself with. A short second later, and he crashed to the floor, body dissolving into dust with that strange bubbling sound.

Leon still lay on the ground, the adrenaline granting him a quick release from pain. He threw the axe away, disgusted, and felt the blood still trickling thinly from the wound. Glancing around to see if any more axe-wielding maniacs were on their way, he tried valiantly to pull himself up. On the third try, he managed to convince his legs to support his bodyweight. Pressing his hand to the bleeding wound in his side, Leon set off again, although less jauntily than before.

He needed to find something to heal himself with- and fast. The First-Aid spray that he had first brought to the village had been used after a nasty bear trap incident.

Leon stumbled over to a fence near the entrance, seeing something blue flapping on the trunk of a lone and leafless tree. He gingerly clambered over, the wound scraping painfully against the splintering wood. He tore the parchment from the tree, and tried to make as much sense of the curled writing as he could.

_15 medallions… 7 in the farm… 8 in the cemetery…_

_For those of you who destroy 10 or more will be rewarded…_

The rest was marred by water droplets from a recent rainfall, and made it completely illegible. Leon could just make out an 'u' and 's' before he gave up, and shoved it in his back pocket.

---------------------------------------------------

The barn had two floors, connected by a ladder. Don Diego lifted his pitchfork once again to jab it into the pile of hay. He paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, not noticing the man climbing the ladder behind him.

There was a loud bang, and he dropped to his knees, a bullet lodged in his leg. The man who had fired at him, viciously kicked out with his leg, and Diego hit the wall with a thump.

---------------------------------------------------

After Leon had booted the farmer, he shot the man in the head until the all-too familiar sound of the aforementioned head exploding. Another layer of blood coated his trousers.

After searching in the cupboard nearby, Leon discovered some badly needed handgun ammo, and a green herb. After what happened in Raccoon city, Leon was familiar with the concept of herbs, and gladly used it. The pain faded, and Leon found that he could run again without holding a hand to his side.

He jumped out of the window and onto a wooden platform. At the end was an enclosure, with several bear traps on the floor, and an intimidating, large wooden gate that led off to god knows where. Deciding that a safer route was the one below him with a nice small gate, and lack of traps, Leon leaped down.

The gate opened slowly as Leon once again peered round it. There seemed to be no villagers, so he went through to find himself at the bottom of a gully, with a hut, and a trail leading down a slope. Bringing out his shotgun, he carefully advanced down the hill, taking note of every detail least an ambush was waiting for him. He didn't have to wait very long. When he was not far from a bridge strung between the two sides of the ravine and high above him, he heard a sudden grunting and straining noise. Looking behind and up, he saw that a gigantic boulder was perched on the edge of the high wall, and at the back were four villagers heaving away.

The boulder quickly fell, and headed towards Leon with amazing speed. Time slowed as Leon frantically tried to find somewhere at the sides to press himself against, but it looked like the rock was going to take up the whole path. With no time left, Leon turned swiftly around, and bolted down the hill.

He regretted not having his handgun out instead of his shotgun; it was weighing him down. Legs pumping furiously, Leon sprinted as hard as he could, painfully aware that the boulder was getting closer and closer. There! The end! A small tunnel leading into another area. But there was no time to throw himself into it; the rock would be on him soon.

The valley finally widened a bit before the tunnel, and Leon flung himself against the wall on the grassy verge. The boulder smashed against the too-small passageway, but luckily, none of the large pieces hit Leon. He glanced back up the slope before making his way through the tunnel.

As he walked beneath them, small bats awoke and swung from their perches to soar gleefully around. Leon shot some shiny spinals down from the roof. They seemed to have some value, so he figured that if he ever got back, he would be able to sell them. Maybe this mission wasn't so bad…

Leon changed his mind the second he saw one of the villagers holding a stick of dynamite. The man hadn't seen him yet, and was instead swaying about with a vacant look on his face in front of a run down shack. With a shotgun of no use for distant targets, Leon switched to his handgun.

One shot to the stomach, and the villager noticed him. He lit the dynamite, and threw it in Leon's direction. Leon turned to back down the tunnel, but the dynamite didn't seem to be able to reach him, and the villager seemed reluctant to leave his post. As he was lighting the next stick of dynamite, Leon shot at it three times. The first one hit the man in the arm, the second one was embedded in the wood of the shack, but the third bullet hit the lit dynamite.

There was a massive explosion, and the villager holding the dynamite seemed to have been vaporised by the force. It had also hit someone in the shack; Leon could hear them crying out in pain. A bald head peaked from a gap in the wood. The sound of dynamite being lit again reached Leon. He took careful aim, and shot the dynamite as soon as the man's arm was in view. There was another explosion, and Leon was surprised that the shack didn't catch fire.

He went left, near an even more decrepit old shed complete with bear traps and explosive trigger-wire. When shooting all the hazards (including two freaky-looking spiders ) he could hear a banging noise in the distance, like someone was throwing something against a wall. Continuing on to dispatch another villager, Leon saw that there was a huge derelict house, grim and foreboding. However, it was the obvious place that Ashley was being held.

Leon slashed at the lock on the only door with his knife. It buckled easily, and he entered the building. Inside was just as he'd predicted it; dark and grimy with dirt and mould everywhere. Tables and chairs were strewn in random places, with more wires stretched across rooms. The banging noise was getting louder. After pushing a cupboard aside and almost walking into another blasted cable, Leon found the last room he could access.

This was were the banging noise was coming from. The room was empty, apart from a wardrobe in the corner. Every few seconds, it would rock, and bang against the floor. Leon went forward cautiously, gun drawn. He reached out a hand to touch the splintered wood, wondering what unnerving horror lay inside. The wardrobe stopped bashing about, and stood silently, as if waiting for Leon to open it.

Well, he would hate to disappoint.

He positioned himself at the side, and flicked the key in the lock.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luis held his breath as he heard the faint distant explosions and gunshots. Could it be him? Was help finally here?

He began to thump frantically against the sides of his prison, hoping desperately that he would be heard. A few minutes later, and Luis could hear footsteps in the room getting closer and closer. They stopped just outside of the door, and Luis stopped his flailing and pressed an ear against it. He lost his balance as the door was opened, and he fell onto the floor, unable to break his fall thanks to the rope around his hands. He blinked up at the man standing over him, holding a gun with eyes narrowed in confusion.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leon stared at the man that had just fallen out of the wardrobe. Bound and gagged, he didn't seem much of a threat, and personally, Leon had expected something more. The man was shaking his head hysterically at the sight of the handgun, and Leon rolled his eyes as he ripped the tape from the man's mouth. The man let out a gasp of pain as the tape came away with clumps of facial hair attached to it.

"Couldn't have gone for the more gentle approach, could you?" The accent was strong, and Leon wondered how involved this man was with the whole going-shit-ass-crazy-and-killing-foreigners deal. He flipped the man onto his front, and began to untie the knot binding his hands.

"You're…not like _them,_ are you?" the man asked anxiously, obviously scared to hell. Leon paused. This man didn't seem like the stabby-killing type, but Leon had to make sure.

"No. You?" He undid the rope, and pulled suddenly so that the man rolled across the floor. He sat up, rubbing his wrists.

"Ok. Got a question Americano, very important, si?" Leon waited for the usual barrage of questions, _who are you, what's going on…_

"You got a smoke?"

Leon bowed his head to hide a smile. Not only was this guy not trying to kill him, he was also a joker.

"Actually, I do have a cigarette somewhere…or gum." A friendly grin. Leon hoped to God this guy was a fighter, a survivor like himself.

Heavy footsteps behind them stopped their amusing banter, and Leon turned to see a giant of a man, wearing a big trench coat and big boots. Everything about this man spelt out BIG.

"Crap. The Big Cheese." Leon waited for an explanation. Receiving none, he turned to face the man.

"What?"

The man got closer, and Leon did the only thing he could think of to try and get out of this situation. Running forward, he kicked out with his leg, intending to floor this monster. Instead, his foot met with a hand. Leon looked up for a split second, seeing different coloured irises on the tall man, before flying backwards. He crashed straight into the poor man behind him, and then landed on top of him in the midst of the wrecked wardrobe. His eyelids fluttered, and consciousness slipped away.


	5. Fighting the good fight

**Thank you, everybody who reviewed, everyone who asked me to update, hell, even people who read this and thought 'this ain't worth my time.' If you ask me for updates, it does actually make me write faster. I used Google translator (God bless ya, Google) for the Spanish parts.**

**Points to anyone who can pick out the Shaun of the Dead parts. :P. Still don't own that, by the way.**

Leon awoke to the sound of someone speaking softly in Spanish. His head hurt like hell and throbbed as he looked up from his slouched sitting position. The first thing he noticed was the wall in front of him had a large bloodstain smeared down it. Lurching back in panic, he bumped into something behind him. Or rather, someone. Slowly, he turned his head. A cheek pressed against a cheek and the side of a mouth caught his. Both of them quickly turned away in embarrassment.

Leon caught a flash of white teeth and dark, staring eyes. His hands were cuffed behind him, touching the skin of the other man.

"Hey." He nudged the man to get his attention, gaze slipping to the unfamiliar handgun that was holstered and uncomfortably digging into his back. Leon narrowed his eyes. Was this man using the gun to kill intruders like the rest of the villagers, or was he, like Leon, trying to fight his way out of this mess? The man grunted as Leon jabbed him with an elbow.

"Mi Dios. Out of one hole and into another damn hole." The Spaniard sounded exasperated, and Leon could hardly blame him. "So...just what the hell is happening here?" he asked, trying not to sound too rude. The dark haired man chuckled and turned his head. "_Americano_? What brings you here of all places?" These words reminded Leon of his mission. He dug in his pocket for the picture of Ashley, unintentionally twisting the cuffs around the stranger's hands. The man winced. "Hey, take it easy Le- whoever you are."

Leon brought the photo round, showing it to the other man. "I came here to find this girl, and my name is Leon." The stranger studied the picture for a moment. "Heh, _Americano_, you don't look like a cop; too pretty to be dealing with bad guys." Leon tuned back around, offended. "Maybe."

There was a moment of silence, the Spanish man skimming his eyes over the photo. He gave a light laugh that snapped Leon out of his musing. "At a guess, I'd say she's...the president's daughter?" The agent twisted his head to look at the man. "That's way too good for a guess. Wanna start telling me what you know?" The Spaniard just stared straight ahead, and spoke in a whisper. "Psychic powers."

Leon tried to look skeptical, but after all he'd seen, he wasn't going to take a chance. The man looked round and snorted. "Do you really believe that, cop? I heard some of the Ganado talking about her being locked in the church."

"Ganado?"

"Cattle."

"Wait, the...cows told you about this?" The man chuckled again, face lit up with amusement. "No _bonito_, the villagers are called cattle because...well, let's just say that they haven't been themselves lately, which is a shame, these were good people." Leon turned his head to see the Spaniards face twisted into grief, but a moment later he shook himself and resumed staring at the wall.

"And who might you be?"

"Me llamo Luis Sera. I- ah- used to work in Madrid. As a cop. Kinda like you. But now I'm just...a good for nothing researcher stuck in this hellhole and in desperate need of a smoke."

A former cop like himself? This spiked Leon's interest, and he decided to press the man for more information. "So, why did you quit the force?" The man scoffed. "Policia. You spend all day saving other people's asses and getting shot at, and people still act like _you're_ the enemy." Leon could relate to that. "I used to be a cop...for the grand total of one day." The Spaniard looked to the side. "Jesus. I thought I was bad, amigo."

Leon was absorbed in his memories, eyes glazing over. "Somehow I managed to get myself involved with the incident in Raccoon city. On my _first day_ in the force. But I think being late saved my ass."

"Late? Way to make a good first impression."

Annoyed, Leon twisted the cuffs again. "Ah! Hey, ok ok! I'm sorry. Why were you late?"

Leon sighed, blowing his fringe away from his face. "I take rejection hard, it seems. Hit the bottle when my girlfriend chucked me, the day before I was due to begin duty."

Raccoon city...

Luis remembered back six years, the news filled with stories about the flesh-eating dead and strange, twisted creatures in that ill-fated city.

And this cop survived all that? Luis was amazed.

"That is...the incident with the viral outbreak, right?" he frowned, watching the cop's distracted nod.

_Poor guy..._

"Right, well, we need a way to get out of-"

"Te voy a matar." The new voice was quiet and droning, but the sinister scrape of metal against the floor sounded loud to both the captives. A Ganado appeared in the doorway, dragging a huge axe behind it, face and shirt splattered with fresh blood. Luis began struggling against the cuffs that bound them together, watching in fear as the bloody man moved closer. "Do something cop!" He yelled.

"Ladies first!" Leon snapped back, thinking rapidly. The Ganado growled and swung the axe over its shoulder, a split-second after Leon turned his head and whispered: "Now!" The axe came down and Leon pulled the cuffs, dragging them into the way. The links were severed, a painful jolt running through the metal and cutting into Luis and Leon's hands. Now free, the blonde cop lay on his back, waiting for the right time to strike. The Ganado raised the axe again with an annoyed yell. Leon lifted his foot, and caught it under the disgusting creature's sizeable stomach, lifting, and heaved it into the wall. It fell, neck snapping against the floor with a final, sick sound.

Leon got to his feet, easing his pained hands out of the broken cuffs, watching as Luis did the same. Blood trickled from a gash on his wrist, but when he examined it, it wasn't that bad. Luis walked over to where the cop stood, a worried look on his face when he spotted the blood. The Spaniard seemed lucky, only a purple line indicating where the cuffs had been.

"Are you alright?" he sounded pretty concerned, fumbling in his pockets for something. "Here, use this." Luis took out a green herb and grabbed Leon's hand, pressing the plant against the wound. Leon almost pulled away, before he realised that the contact was probably only intended as a strictly concerned act of safety on his behalf. He allowed Luis to fuss over him for a few more minutes, before inconspicuously moving away to grab the ammo he had just spotted on one of the shelves. He was surprised to find his guns still on him, but miffed about his missing jacket. Luis was tending to his own gun, one that Leon had never used before, and didn't look up when he said: "Ok, let's go."

Leon narrowed his eyes. "Will you take me to the church?" he asked, hoping that this guy wouldn't leave him in the lurch when it really mattered. Luis sighed. "Haven't you considered getting out of here while you still can?" Leon growled and pushed past him. "If you won't help me, then fine. But I have a job to do, and a girl to save." He began to walk around the corner of the building, gun raised should anymore axe-wielding maniacs appear, and was not surprised to hear Luis following behind.

As they passed the window, Leon's eyes trained on the door in front of them, a purple-garbed figure with a scarf over half of his face suddenly appeared, orange tinted eyes studying them. Startled, Leon jumped, pulling the trigger at the same time. The bullet lodged in the wood of the edge of the window, not an inch from the stranger who ducked, and let out a muffled "don't shoot!"

Leon leaned out of the window, looking down at the hunched man. "Sorry." The man stood slowly as Leon put his gun away, and turned. "Uh...over 'ere, stranger." The man looked very shaken as he trundled around the back of the shack. Leon kept watching until Luis nudged him in the back. "Well? Come on! I know him, he's cool."

Behind the shack, they found the man standing a little more confidently.

"Luis!" came a throaty greeting from him. Luis grinned and walked up to him. "Hola, Merchant. How are you doing?" The 'merchant' shrugged, and Leon could hear various jangling and clunking noises from beneath his long, closed coat. "Eh. Survivin'." He opened his coat, revealing various weapons of all different sizes. Leon raised his eyebrows, but said nothing about the man's armament.

-

After purchasing a rifle and scope and tuning up his shotgun so that it now held eight shells, Leon was peering through gaps in a wall. Outside their little enclosed safety, he could see a gorge, a hole in the earth so deep that the bottom was covered with some kind of mist. Planks made up walkways and bridges, and there were a couple more of dilapidated buildings. Ganado patrolled the place, looking bored as they shuffled along with their weapons idly held in their clammy hands. Up a hill to his right, Leon could also see some activity, and a good number of the bumbling creatures holding sticks of unlit dynamite. Luis was standing next to the large gate that separated them from the Ganado. Looking at Leon, he whispered 'how many?'. Leon responded by shaking his head and ducking under the gap least any spotted him. He crawled towards Luis, hiding behind the same jut in the wall where the Spaniard was. He began to speak, but Luis clamped a hand over his mouth and pressed Leon's head close to his. "Don't move," the Spaniard breathed, so quiet that Leon could hardly hear it, even with the man's lips almost touching his ear. "There's one right outside."

Leon listened intently, the heavy breathing of a Ganado rasping from the other side of the gate. The creature muttered to itself.

"Bastardos. Derramaré sangre." Something metallic scraped against the gate, possibly an axe or pitchfork. Leon crouched on the floor, wondering why Luis still had his head near his. He would have pushed the man onto his ass had he not been worried that the Ganado outside might hear them. After a few moments, heavy footsteps could be heard walking back along the path and both men simultaneously let out a shaky breath of relief.

"Right. There was about ten that I could see. Probably more in the buildings and on that hill." Leon watched as Luis smiled. "So, what's the plan?" Leon thought for a moment.

"If you...lure them into here, I can shoot them when they come through the gate. From what I've seen, they can't use handles, they just...pat the door until it opens. So you should be able to run in here, shut it on them, and then when they open it, blast them." Luis huffed at the idea of being bait, but reluctantly agreed with a nod.

-

"Ready?"

"If you can ever be ready for something like this."

"Remember: Only shoot them if you have to. Conserve ammo."

"I'm on it."

Luis pushed the heavy gate open as Leon stood with his back against the door of the shack. The first Ganado he saw was the one they had heard. It was thankfully with its back to him, a pitchfork clasped in both hands. As stealthily as he could, Luis crept up behind it, Red 9 at the ready. The former-human called to some of the others on the hill that overlooked the area, waving one arm to grab their attention. The ones that came to the edge saw their companion waving, the bothersome researcher aiming his gun behind it. There was a momentary surprised silence, before one had the presence of mind to yell out a warning.

"_¡Detrás de ti, estúpido!"_

The Ganado turned in time to meet with one of Luis' bullets, the lead hitting the stunned creature in the chest. All the ones on the cliff were yelling now, alerting the others to the intruder. Most began to run down the slope, brandishing weapons and growling. Luis backed away from the enraged Ganado and hurriedly opened the gate, slamming it shut when he had slipped through. He stood beside Leon, taking the same stance the other man had, and aiming at the trembling gate.

"They definitely want to come in..."


End file.
